No Matter How They Toss the Dice
by WhatBecomesOfYou
Summary: When a simple promise - "no midnight tiptoe" - is broken and a secret relationship is revealed, a new set of rules come into play, ones that change everything. Written for polybigbang 2009. Speed/Calleigh/Eric. Complete.
1. One

**Author's Note**: _This was written back over the summer for polybigbang on LiveJournal. Contains spoilers through early season six. Established Speed/Calleigh; eventual Speed/Calleigh/Eric, mentions of all ships in that (Speed/Calleigh, Eric/Calleigh, Eric/Speed). All of this has already been written and posted elsewhere online, I'm just now getting around to cross-posting it over here._

_Dedicated to my amazing beta, who not only inspired this fic, but helped with quite a bit of the fact and canon checking. This is for you. =)_

**Warnings**: _Committed three-way relationship (eventually), mentions of character death, sexual themes._

* * *

Eric tossed and turned on the couch, clutching the thin blanket Calleigh had given him. No midnight tiptoe, she had told him. That had been the condition. He would spend the night at Calleigh's house, be protected from the people targeting the Cubans. With all of her guns, she probably had the safest house in all of Miami, so he was fairly certain if anyone tried to pull any funny business, she'd shoot them. In return, he couldn't snoop around. Fair enough.

The problem was, he couldn't sleep. Not for a lack of wanting, as he had _not_ slept well the night before, and sleep sounded good. A welcome respite from everything that had been wearing on him.

From somewhere inside the house, he heard a strange noise. Was that moaning? Was Calleigh's…no, that wasn't the sort of moaning that a ghost would make. He smirked and turned over, casting his gaze on her carpet fibers. A part of him wondered who the lucky guy was. She didn't strike him as the sort to pick up a random guy from the club, and besides, considering the fact that they had gone out to dinner that night, she wouldn't have had the means or opportunity to do so. A friend of hers, perhaps? It was possible, but unlikely, he thought.

That left two possibilities in his mind: either their boss or their co-worker. Horatio or Speed. He got up from the couch and began pacing back and forth. Water. He needed water. Making his way blindly in the dark over to the kitchen, he fumbled around in the cupboards until he made contact with a glass. He turned on the sink tap and filled the glass halfway up with water, before leaning back against the counter and looking up at the ceiling. The moans were louder from here, he thought miserably, downing half the water in one solid gulp.

She was beautiful. Everyone in the lab knew it. When the sunlight caught her hair at the right angle, it was as though he was seeing pure gold in front of his eyes. And yeah, he was probably in love with her. From the sounds of it though, that love was forever doomed to stay locked in his dreams, only to make its presence known when he was fast asleep, never seeing the light of day, never knowing if anything could come of it. In silence, he finished off the glass, and set it next to the sink. He'd wash it later, when the thought of Calleigh having sex mere feet from where he was standing wasn't clouding his thoughts.

The curiosity was burning inside him. He had to know who the lucky guy was. Picking up the glass again, he smiled. Classic childhood technique, eavesdropping with a glass pressed against the door. Silently, he thanked Marisol for teaching it to him, and turning quietly and walking on tiptoe, he slunk out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward Calleigh's bedroom.

* * *

Calleigh felt like everything inside her was on fire, and she was at the melting point, ready to explode at any moment. With every brush of his lips on her skin, the temperature increased. She dug her fingernails into his back, as he thrust in and out of her, building her up to the inevitable. "You _know_ how dangerous this is, doing this when Eric's sleeping on the couch, right?" she had said before they had gotten to this point, though the words only came back to her in a haze, almost as though she had never said them, or it had been an out-of-body experience. And he had just bowed his head to hers and all was forgotten in a delirium of joy and roaming hands.

From somewhere above her, or next to her, or nearby, she heard a faint scratching, like someone or something was scratching on wood. Looking upward into Speed's face, she smirked, and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the new position satisfying her very much. Scratching? What scratching? She had _much_ more important things to worry about.

"Ohhh," she breathed out in a loud moan, as she felt his release enter her. "_Tim_."

There was a sudden shattering noise from outside her door, followed by the sound of footsteps leading away, as though the person was running, almost. Narrowing her eyes into slits, she quickly pressed her lips to his cheek in a kiss. "Hold on," she said angrily, wrapping a sheet around her waist and making her way toward the door. "I need to see what _Eric_ is up to."

He lay back against her pillows, spent from their time together. "I'll be here when you get back," he said, giving her a wink.

Thrusting her bedroom door open and wrapping the sheet tighter around her, so that she wouldn't inadvertently give Eric a free peep show, she peered out into the hallway. "Damn it," she muttered, seeing one of her glasses laying in shattered pieces on the floor. "Eric!"

"Yes?" he replied from her couch, sleep coating his voice. "What is it?"

"Did you do this?" It wasn't so much of a question as it was asking him for a confirmation. A confirmation that he had decided to betray the promise he had made her earlier.

Eric mentally waged a war with himself. Either he could tell her the truth and she'd be mad at him, or he could lie, and she'd know that he was lying. He bit his lip and looked upward at the ceiling. "Calleigh…I…uh…" he stammered.

"You know what? _Forget_ it, Eric. Go back to sleep. And _no more midnight tiptoeing_." She flipped on one heel and angrily stormed back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Eric pulled the blanket over his head and sighed.

As he drifted back off to sleep, his dreams were filled with the loveliest images, filling in the mental blanks on what had gone on behind the closed doors of her bedroom. The odd thing, or what he perceived to be the odd thing, was that in his dreams, all three of them were there, together, and it _wasn't_ just Calleigh having all the attention…

Calleigh walked back into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed, landing on both her mattress and Speed's arm at the same time. "How did it go with Eric?" he whispered, idly threading his fingers through her hair.

"He was eavesdropping," she said, expelling a sharp breath, and turned over to bury her face into his bare chest. "I _told_ him, when he asked me, _no midnight tiptoe_, and he _didn't_ listen."

"Did you ever consider?"

"Consider _what_?" she looked up at him and squinted.

"Inviting him in."

With a huff, she turned back over, her eyes gazing over the wall. "No," she replied, sighing deeply. "I didn't."

"Why not?" It was a simple question, two short words, yet, it was the most loaded thing he had ever asked her.

"I…don't want to talk about this right now," she said, throwing her head back against the pillow, slightly exasperated. "Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Calleigh, you're going to have to walk out there tomorrow and face him anyway."

"I _said _I don't _want_ to talk about this right now." She firmly shut her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep. "Good night."

"Good night," he whispered, reaching over her to shut off her lamp light.

-_to be continued_-


	2. Two

The Miami morning dawned bright and early, _too_ early for her taste, as her alarm radio switched on, the radio announcer giving the daily morning traffic report. Birds chirped incessantly outside Calleigh's window. She turned over and slapped the snooze button, clamoring for a few more minutes of precious sleep. With what lay ahead of her that morning, between that delayed talk with Speed, more than likely a talk with Eric as well regarding boundaries, and _of course_, another day on the job, she knew that she'd need all the sleep she could get.

Much too shortly, her alarm went off again, this time in the middle of "A Moment Like This." She sighed and glared at the radio. It wasn't that she didn't like the song; she did, maybe, in a guilty pleasure sort of way. But it _wasn't_ what she wanted to wake up to first thing in the morning. Sighing, she hit the off button, and the room fell silent. She looked over. "Good," she thought, shifting her weight and getting out of bed. "Maybe I can take a shower before he wakes up."

She slid a robe around herself, and walked over to the bathroom. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered, but, as she thought grimly, she didn't know where Eric was lurking, and after the events of the night before, she didn't trust him _not_ to spy on her in the shower. Humming brightly as she turned on the water and shed her robe, she willed herself, mentally, not to let the events of the day get her down. She squeezed the shampoo bottle, and a small dime of shampoo landed in her hands. Feeling the lightness of the bottle, she made a mental note to stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy a new bottle of shampoo.

She stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the rack, feeling the coolness of the tile beneath her bare feet. Hopefully, this day wouldn't be as bad as she feared it would be. A good, strong cup of coffee could help with the optimism, she thought, and after wrapping her hair in the towel, she stepped out into the hallway.

"Good morning," she said, to no one in particular. Her curiosity piqued as to who would respond first.

"Good morning, Cal," Eric replied from his position on the couch. "Sleep well?" In its innocence, it was the most loaded question he could have asked her, given the circumstances.

"Amazing," came the curt reply from the kitchen. "Was the couch pleasing to you?"

He stood up and began walking toward the kitchen to join her. "Very. Thank you."

She slumped back against the counter as a fresh pot of morning coffee began percolating, pinching the bridge of her nose and letting out a sigh. "You know, Cal, a watched coffee pot never boils," he said, gently teasing her.

"Coffee doesn't _boil_, Eric," she said, more edge in her voice than she really intended. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-"

It was that moment that Speed chose to enter the kitchen, wearing no more than a pair of low-slung boxers. "Morning, Calleigh, morning, Eric," he said, rifling through the cupboards before finding his coffee mug.

Eric raised his eyebrows at the sight. It felt like he had landed in the Twilight Zone. The Twilight Zone where his two co-workers were going at it like bunny rabbits behind his back, without his knowledge, even. How had they managed that? Having a secret at the lab, especially for any extended period of time, was almost akin to possessing the Holy Grail. "How long?" he asked, not realizing he was saying it out loud.

Calleigh laughed. "What has it been now? Six months?"

"Something like that," Speed said, glancing over at Calleigh, allowing a small smile to tug at his lips, before returning to a more neutral expression. "Time flies."

"That it does," Eric replied, finding his way blindly over to one of her kitchen chairs. He was feeling light-headed. Maybe some breakfast would help. He had had thoughts, before last night, that he would wake up early and cook her breakfast, as a thank you. Somehow, that didn't seem quite right now. No, he felt slightly nauseous as well. This wasn't how he had anticipated his first morning after with Calleigh. It was almost more like the walk of shame, and he couldn't wait to get out of it. Never speak of the events that had transpired.

"So, who's up for some coffee?" Calleigh said brightly, holding up the pot joyously.

As he blindly took the acceptance of steaming hot coffee from her hands, he let out a pained sigh and sloughed half of the cup in one gulp, not feeling the pain as it coursed down his throat. It was all _so_ screwed up, and there was no easy fix for any of it.

* * *

Later that afternoon, as Calleigh walked out of the lab at the end of shift, Speed pulled her off to the side. "Calleigh, _now_ can we talk?" he asked, almost insistent in his tone.

"Let's get in the car first," she said, opening her door and fumbling for her keys in her purse. After both were seated and buckled, and driving on the road leading out of the lab, she broke the tense silence. "Talk."

"It would seem that the simplest course of action last night would have been to invite Eric in."

"And I _told_ you, I've never even considered it."

"Why not? Are you _really_ that adamant against it?"

The silence and tension in the front seat was thick enough that both were _fairly_ sure that if one of them had a butcher knife, they could slice it without much problem.

"Why are _you_ so for it?"

"I asked you first."

She thought back. It wasn't much in the way of a secret that she worked with two of the best-looking guys in all of Miami. But she was _happy_ with her relationship with Speed as it was, in all of its uncomplicated simplicity. Adding a third unknown variable to the solution, even temporarily…well, she was a physicist, not a chemist, but she was pretty certain that it would lead to an explosion that none of them would be able to recover from. And the _last_ thing she wanted to do was toy with Eric's heart. He was a good friend, and he didn't deserve her doing that to him.

"I don't want to hurt our relationship," she said, finally, eyes glued to the road ahead of her.

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. "Calleigh Duquesne, afraid of unpredictability. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Why do you say that?" She found herself on the defensive now. She _liked_ unpredictability. Tolerating unpredictability was practically in the job description for crime scene investigator, right alongside copious amounts of blood and having to possess the ability to discern when people were lying to your face.

"Oh, I don't know. But don't you think that _maybe_ it's time to let down your hair a little? I _know_ you know how to," he said with a smirk.

She bit her lip. It almost felt like the car was smaller than she ever thought it was, nearly a coffin. "One time."

"One time for what?" he asked in reply, wanting a confirmation for what he felt her intention was.

"One time, the three of us, but _only_ if he's agreeable."

"And if it goes well?"

She narrowed her eyes and turned to him. "We'll _see_ how things go, and talk from there. We don't even know how he'll react when we ask him."

"Is he staying over again tonight?"

"He'll probably be making alternate plans if he still doesn't want to stay at home," she said with a sigh. "After how last night went…"

"Yeah." They both knew how her sentence would end.

"I can call him when we get back to my place," she said. "But first, we need to stop at the store."

"Why?"

"I'm out of shampoo, among other things. Should I cook, or do we want to go out for dinner?"

He shrugged and turned back to face the window. "Whatever you want, Calleigh. The longer you put off that call though…"

"I know, I know," she said, placing her free hand over his and squeezing gently. "Don't worry. I'll make the call."

"Good."

-_to be continued_-


	3. Three

She picked up the phone and stared blankly at the keys. With a quick press of a few buttons, she could call Eric and have possibly _the_ most awkward phone conversation of all time. Or, she could hold off, find a better time to call. Mentally waging a war with herself, she slumped forward, fingers running through her hairline. "Why couldn't _Speed_ be the one making the call?" she muttered to herself, glancing down at the receiver. Menacing little thing, it really was.

Slamming it down on the end table, she got up from her position and spun around, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water from the counter. She gulped it down, the feel of the liquid doing nothing to assuage her feelings.

"You're damned if you do and damned if you don't, Duquesne," she said under her breath, shooting death glares at the phone out of the corner of her eye. "You may as well be square dancing with the devil either way."

* * *

The phone rang and Eric picked it up. "Delko."

"Yeah, man, it's Speed."

"Hey." The silence over the phone was palpable. Only the synchronized heavy breathing sounded through the earpieces. "So…what's up?"

"Heard from Calleigh at all?"

"Nah, haven't seen her since work and we bumped into each other in the break room. Why? Does she want something from me?"

"You could say that."

"Mind filling me in? Is it about last night?"

"You _could_ say it's about last night."

Eric rolled his eyes. This wasn't working for him. "Look, don't keep playing with me. Just give it to me straight."

"We want to talk to you about something, and I thought Calleigh should be the one to broach the subject to you."

"And you can't because…"

"Because you would think I was trying to amend what happened."

"With the mojitos and that club in South Beach, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Are you?"

Speed let out a small shrug, although he knew the person it was intended for couldn't even see it. "You could say that, maybe, yes."

"I thought we both agreed to forget that night ever happened."

"It's hard to forget when we see each other every day."

"It was _seven_ months ago."

"And _six_ months ago, I started dating Calleigh, and we _specifically_ didn't tell you because you'd react like this."

"Does she know?"

"About the mojitos?"

"No, about the – _of course_ it's about the mojitos."

"If she does, _I'm_ not the one who told her."

"Doesn't she deserve to know?"

"Maybe." For the first time, Speed thought about how Calleigh would take the news. She wasn't vindictive. More like the kind of person who would find a brilliant silver lining in even the darkest of storm clouds. But she was also one of the, if not _the_, most proficient ballistics specialist in all of south Florida, and when she aimed her perfectly polished Smith & Wesson, there was _no_ way he wanted to be the person she was aiming at. Would she be angry enough? Doubtful, but he didn't want to chance it. "I never thought that it was that important."

"Look, if you two are having some big fiesta tonight and I'm invited, I'll bring salsa, but just," Eric took a deep breath before continuing. "You _need _to talk it out with her. Decide once and for all what our mojitos mean for your relationship with her."

"Okay."

"And if I get a phone call from her before you two have your talk, the answer's 'no' to _whatever_ she asks."

"Okay. 'Bye."

"'Bye."

Speed hung up the phone and exhaled. He never quite realized how one mojito-laden night with a good friend suddenly was the crux of everything he had planned in his relationship. Granted, he mused, it wasn't as though his _plan_ when he began dating the only crime scene investigator he had ever met that made the sun look positively dour in comparison was to tie the ends together. It was just a golden opportunity that had fallen into his lap the night before, and by the looks Eric would exchange with Calleigh whenever she was within eyeshot, he perceived that once it was said and done, it wouldn't be a hard fight to get the 'no' to become a 'yes.'

* * *

"Did you make the call yet?" Speed asked, walking into the kitchen and peering over her shoulder at the pot of food on the stove. "And what are you cooking?"

"No, not yet, and pasta," she said in reply, holding up a box of noodles. "Didn't feel up to grilling tonight."

He nodded blankly. "Can we talk?" He motioned to the table, and she stepped over, easing herself into a seat.

"Sure, what's up?"

"I talked to Eric a little while ago."

"You did?" Her eyebrows shot up in a mixture of interest and confusion. "I thought I was supposed –"

"You are," he said, cutting her off. "It, well, I had to talk to him about something."

"Anything you feel like sharing?"

"Well…"

"Is that a yes or a no?" She stared at him, her eyes cutting straight through him. "Just tell me."

"Yes," he replied, exhaling a breath he didn't know he had been holding in the first place. "Before…you and I started dating…"

"Yes?"

"Eric and I went out to a club together one night." The memories of the night came back to him in a neon-colored blur with a dance-beat soundtrack. "It was just to burn off steam after a long shift at work."

"And?"

"We had _too many _mojitos and the next thing either of us knew…" He trailed off, thinking that Calleigh would get the idea without him having to spell it out for her. "_That's_ why I was so into the idea of the three of us last night."

"I wondered if you two had something going on behind my back," she said, slightly shaking her head.

"No, Calleigh, since you and I started dating, I haven't had sex with anyone but you."

"Glad to know that."

They sat in silence, thoughts swirling through both of their minds. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, his tone dropping to a low whisper.

"I'm thinking that if we go ahead with this, I don't want to lose what you and I have right now," she said, blinking her eyes, lost in thought. "What we _have_ is good. It's simple, without needless complications."

"And life isn't simple."

"No, it isn't." she said with a pained sigh. "Hand me the phone. I have a phone call to make."

* * *

_Ring. Ring_. The ringing of the phone echoed throughout the room, a chime beckoning him.

"Delko," Eric said, picking up the phone. He was hoping to hear a feminine southern accent on the other end of the line. Truth be told, he didn't see how it could be _anyone_ else – unless it was a random telemarketer trying to sell him life insurance.

"Hey, it's Calleigh. Is this a bad time?"

He glanced around at the haphazard disarray of his house, the end result of packing an overnight bag in a hurry the night before. "Uh…not really. I was about to pop a frozen pizza in the oven when you called though. What's up?"

"I was," she looked over at Speed, seeking reassurance before she continued. "Hoping you'd join Speed and I for spaghetti tonight."

He smiled. That answered the question, for him at least, of if the conversation had taken place. He knew that Speed would do everything in his power to make sure that he and Calleigh talked prior to the phone call. "I'd be glad to." Frozen pizza, he had to admit, didn't sound too appealing, although it was one of the few options he had. Especially since the last time he had made one, it ended up still having freezer burn on it after it was fully cooked. It was _almost_ enough to turn him off of the entire enterprise of frozen cuisine, but in the end, the need to survive on a crime scene investigator's salary and schedule outweighed the desire to have better-tasting, yet still efficient, food. "Be over shortly."

"See you soon."

"'Bye."

She hung up and looked over at Speed. "Spaghetti for three it is."

* * *

"Thanks for the dinner, Calleigh," Eric said, scraping his fork against the plate to retrieve the last scraps of noodle. "It was really good."

"Glad you liked it." She grinned and a pale red flush spread across her face.

The amiable chatter of dinner died down to a dull silence, permeated only by the sound of the neighbors mowing their lawn. Calleigh glanced over at Speed, and edged her hand toward his. "Eric?" she asked, her voice low.

"Yes?"

"We had something to ask you." Her heart beat rapidly through her chest, and she mentally swore at Speed for putting the burden of asking this on her. If _he_ was the one so insistent on this situation, he should be the one to ask. No questions asked. Unless there would be something so uncomfortable about it, but it didn't make sense.

"Yes?"

"Speed and I were talking, and we were wondering…if you were comfortable…if you'd like to _join_ us?"

Eric looked at Speed, and back at Calleigh, switching his gaze between each of them. It was like she could read his fantasies from the night before. And now he understood what Speed had meant by "_amending what had happened_" all that time ago. He crooked a slight smile and turned to the two of them. "You two are sure? Because if this falls flat on its face, then the lab is going to be _hell_."

"We talked it out. We're sure," Speed said, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table.

"Then…show me the way." Eric stood up and placed both palms of his hands on the back of his seat chair.

Calleigh and Speed walked over from their chairs to where he was standing, each grabbing one of his palms, and taking it in theirs. Eric thought about each of their grasps as they made their way toward Calleigh's bedroom. Calleigh's hand was small and petite, much like she herself was, cool and breezy to the touch, while Speed's hand was larger, rougher almost. And yet, both felt absolutely perfect.

-_to be continued_-


	4. Four

The next morning, sun streamed through the curtains into the bedroom. Rumpled sheets and dangling limbs jutted out from the bed at every angle. Calleigh was the first to wake, and looked around the room. The memories of the night before were drifting back to her in a disjointed haze, jarred into full-fledged reality by the sight of the lube perched on her nightstand. Quickly glancing to her left and right, she saw Speed and Eric sleeping peacefully, Speed gently snoring as he usually did. It was so peaceful and tranquil that she soaked in the atmosphere. In the strangest of ways, it felt comforting to be wedged between them in her own bed.

Flopping back against the pillows, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to fall back asleep, not having to face the harsh reality of the morning after. The moment of truth would come sooner or later, and she was hoping to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

A short time later, she heard her name being softly whispered. "Calleigh? You awake?" It was Eric's voice. "There are waffles on the table if you want any." Sure enough, the distinctive smell of fresh waffles wafted into the room.

She blinked her eyes open, bringing his smiling face into focus. "Sure," she said, her voice husky with sleep. "Just…give me a second, okay?"

"Okay," he said, walking out of the room. "But Speed's eating them practically as fast as they come off the iron, so you _may_ want to hurry."

* * *

Calleigh sat down at the table, a fresh mug of coffee and a small stack of waffles sitting before her, tantalizing her taste buds. After the night before, she had a voracious appetite, and she intended to eat as much as she could. Quickly cutting the waffles, she turned to Eric. "Sleep well?" she asked, attempting to gauge his reaction.

"Better than I have in a long time," he said, casting a glance at Speed and spearing a chunk of waffle on his fork and popping it in his mouth in one fluid motion. "Was what you two said last night true? That this wasn't a one-night stand?"

"Not if you don't want it to be," Speed said, shoving his plate toward the center of the table and stretching his arms above his head. "Frankly, Delko, I'm _tired_ of one-night stands with you," he continued, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

Eric let out a laugh. "Would it always be like this? Waffles in the morning?"

"Maybe we could be daring and try pancakes one morning," Calleigh suggested with her mouth full of half-chewed waffle. Swallowing quickly, aided by a gulp of coffee, she continued. "I don't see any reason why, if things went well, there'd be any need to do it any other way."

"Then let's give this a try."

Speed stood up and began walking over toward the bathroom. "I don't know about you two, but _I_ have to be at work in less than an hour. H wouldn't like it if his three best crime scene investigators were all late on the same day."

"No, he wouldn't," Eric said, standing up. "Cal, you only have the one shower, right?"

She furrowed her eyebrows together. "_Yeah_…why?"

"Well, we can't exactly go into work like this, unless we want to attract every strange stare in the book."

"What are you getting at, Eric?"

"Why don't we save time and take one shower for the three of us?"

Speed poked his head out from the bathroom door. "You know we'd never get out of here if that happened, _right_?"

"We'd be all soapy and wet and not able to keep our hands off each other," Calleigh said, nodding ever so slightly and agreeing with Speed. "But I see the original point. There won't be enough time for all three of us to take showers and get out the door on time."

Eric sighed. "He's already in there; you want to take one together?"

She turned to him and smiled. "Some other time, Eric, when we can take our time. I'll try to hurry for you though, okay?"

"I'm holding you to that, Duquesne," he whispered under his breath. "Holding you to that."

* * *

Before any of them had realized it, it was the one year anniversary of when they had come together as a triad. Speed was the first to realize this, as he woke up that day and the significance of the date suddenly clicked into his head. With a smirk, he wiggled out of the bed, managing not to disturb either of the two other bodies currently peacefully asleep.

He knew that that night they'd go out for a fancy dinner at some restaurant, and then come back to Calleigh's place, as had been the norm for quite some time – neither he nor Eric spent more than a couple nights a week at their own places, things felt too empty when they weren't all together – and probably have a _private_ celebration.

Looking through Calleigh's refrigerator and pantry in short order, he wrinkled his nose with disgust. "Should have gone shopping," he muttered, slamming the pantry door shut. There was nothing that looked even _remotely_ appealing for an anniversary breakfast. Not unless Cheerios were suddenly sexy. Domestic, yes, but domestic wasn't the angle he was aiming for.

He reopened the pantry moments later, not really expecting anything new to pop out, but he was checking anyway. As he glanced on the top shelf, he saw a box of blueberry muffin mix perched perilously. "Bingo," he said, reaching upward and grabbing it deftly. He read the instructions, and turned on the oven. Walking back to the bedroom, he gently shook Calleigh and Eric. "Time to get up," he said. "Breakfast will be shortly."

Calleigh blinked her eyes open. "What're we having?" she asked, her accent thick with sleep. "I thought we were out of waffle mix."

"It's a surprise," Speed said, grinning. "Just get up, you two."

Grunting slowly, Eric eased out of bed and placed his feet on the floor. "We _really_ need to get up faster in the morning," he said, gripping onto the side of the nightstand for balance. "Between eating breakfast and getting ready for work, we're going to be late; and that's not even taking traffic into consideration."

"_Traffic_?" Calleigh asked. "Think about my poor water heater. Whoever gets in the shower last _always_ gets a cold one."

"Which is probably a _good_ thing knowing us, come to think of it…" Speed muttered under his breath, just low enough to where Calleigh and Eric only gave him puzzled looks. "Never mind," he said louder. "So, what do you say to breakfast?"

"Sounds good," Eric said.

* * *

Speed looked up at the sky as the three of them walked out of the lab late one afternoon many months later. "So _that's_ what the sun looks like," he grumbled. "Could have sworn I had forgotten what it looks like."

"Because the Gomez case took so long?" Calleigh said, quickening her pace. A nice, warm shower sounded wonderful after a long, arduous day at the firing range.

"You can say that again, Speed," Eric interjected, shoulders slumped forward. "At least H was nice enough to give us vacation time unexpectedly, since we had to work _so_ much overtime."

"What would you two say about the three of us escaping to the Keys for a few days?" Calleigh asked, thoughts flitting through her mind. "I can call my friend Laurie when we get home and see if she'll let us stay at her beach house."

"That sounds great, Cal," Speed said.

"Yeah, call Laurie, see if she's agreeable. It'd be a nice change of pace from Miami," Eric replied, smiling. After a rough case like the one they had just finished, it _would _be nice to unwind a bit.

"Okay."

* * *

"Yeah, uh huh, talk to you later." Calleigh ended the call and leaned against the wall, facing Eric. "Laurie said we can stay there."

"That's great," Speed said, coming over from his position on the couch and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Does she know about us?"

She nodded. "It's not something her and I really talk about, but she knows."

"And?" Eric asked; his curiosity had been piqued.

"She doesn't really care one way or another," Calleigh said, smiling. "Come on, let's get packed. We can leave tonight; she'll be bringing the keys by shortly."

* * *

_Ring. Ring._

"Mmph," Calleigh grunted, flopping over in bed and glaring at the clock, which read 8:10, and her cell phone, which was incessantly ringing. "Doesn't anyone know to respect the girl on the vacation?" Easing her way out of bed, and disentangling her legs from Speed and Eric's at the same time, she picked up the phone and walked out of the room. "Duquesne."

"Calleigh, it is Horatio. Can you come into work today?"

She glanced back into the bedroom at her two companions, who had inched closer to each other since she had left. "Why? I thought you weren't expecting any of us back until Tuesday."

"We need you back here to help with a new case, and we can't get in touch with Speed or Eric."

"Um, I'm in Key West, I can take the next flight back to Miami, I guess," she said, frowning. Clicking off the phone call, she trudged back into the bedroom and flicked on a lamp to throw her clothes into her bag. She hadn't brought a lot, which she was suddenly thankful for.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she gently shook Speed. "Hey," she whispered, "H called, I have to go back to Miami. Case beckons."

He nodded. "Do you need the car to drive back?"

"Nah, I'll take a taxi to the airport."

"Travel safe, Cal. We love you." He gently pressed his lips to hers, a faint goodbye kiss. "We'll see you on Tuesday." He adjusted his position to be closer to Eric and faded back to sleep.

"Tuesday," she said with a wane smile, and walked out of the bedroom. "Love you two too."

* * *

Eric awoke later that morning. "Where's Calleigh?" he asked, feeling around on the mattress for her. Her spot was cool to the touch. He sat on the bed and swung his legs over the side.

Speed came out of the bathroom, a towel slung around his waist, a toothbrush stuck in his mouth. "H called, needed her to come in for a case. Apparently they're short-handed right now."

"Three of their best investigators all take vacation at the same time, it was bound to happen," Eric said with a sigh. "When'd she leave?"

He glanced at the clock. "About two hours ago. It's just you and me, and this beach house, until Tuesday."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Eric said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What happens in Key West stays in Key West?" Speed asked, setting the toothbrush down on the nightstand and sitting next to Eric on the bed.

"Something like that," Eric replied, opening his mouth hungrily to Speed's, the taste of Speed's toothpaste overpowering him as they fell backwards onto the sheets.

-_to be continued_-


	5. Five

"Yeah?" Eric said into the phone a couple days later. "Um, yeah, we can be back in Miami by morning." He ended the call and lay back down next to Speed. He didn't want to wake him when he was sleeping, but he also knew that he couldn't just spring it on him. Rubbing Speed's shoulder blades, he whispered softly. "Hey, Speed, wake up."

Speed grumbled slightly. "I don't want to wake up," he muttered, turning over and facing Eric. "Though I suppose if I have to, there are worse things I could be waking up to."

Eric smiled. "Look, Speed, H needs both of us back."

He screwed up his face, one eye closed. "Why? Why can't he wait the one day until we'd be back anyway?"

"Obviously they need all three of us." He let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "At least we got away for a few days, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. So how long do we have until we _have_ to be back?"

"By morning."

"And it's only-"

"It's a long drive back to Miami. We need to get started _now_."

"_Fine_," Speed said, getting up from the bed and letting the sheet drape around his legs. "I'm _not_ happy about it, though."

"Maybe Calleigh can help make it up to you later," Eric said with a sly wink. "After all, isn't that the best part of going home?"

"Mmmm," Speed pursed his lips together. "I agree. I miss Calleigh."

"So let's get going and we can see her faster."

* * *

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be," Eric said to Speed, walking under the bridge and toward the crime scene. "First Calleigh gets called back, and then we do."

Speed shook his head. "No rest for the weary."

"Gentlemen, thank you for cutting your vacation short," Horatio said.

"No problem," Speed said, glancing around. They prepared to get to work on the crime scene, finding what evidence they could find.

Meanwhile, Calleigh was finding herself frustrated with Speed, as she worked on the boat with Alexx. She flicked her crime scene light. "I may kill Speedle," she muttered. Just because they were in a relationship did _not_ mean that he had permission to borrow her possessions without asking like that. Especially when said possessions were _not_ returned in the same condition they were loaned out in. They'd have a talk when they got home. She had seen that they were all working the crime scene, and wondered if the two of them had had a good time while she was schlepping it back in Miami. No, they had probably more than just a _good_ time, knowing the two of them, she thought, inwardly smiling a little. She may have been mad over the light not being charged, but she couldn't stay mad at either of them for very long, especially Speed. It was physically impossible for her to.

* * *

A female voice came over the dispatch later that day, as Calleigh and Eric were working on the lab aspect of the case. "_All units. Shots fired. Officer down, McCauley Jewelers_." It was followed shortly by a male voice: "_Two fifty-three Adam en route_."

Calleigh's blood froze in her veins, and she suddenly felt faint, as everything that had gone on nearly the past two years flashed before her eyes. "Be reasonable, Duquesne," she thought to herself. "It could be any number of officers." But in her heart, she knew that it was the end.

On her way out of the lab, she stopped by where Eric was running tests. "Did you hear the dispatch come over a few minutes ago?"

He nodded blankly, his face devoid of emotion. "I…should stay here and continue with the tests. You go on without me."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He came over and embraced her quietly, comforting her, rubbing a consoling hand up and down her back.

After retrieving the evidence from the scene, she ran tests on both Horatio and Speed's guns. "Oh Speedle," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes, as she noticed that his gun wasn't clean. How could it not be clean? Was it an oversight on her part? A failure to make sure it was completely clean? Sighing, she settled down to make an official report. Officially, it would be a malfunction. Unofficially, she couldn't help but feel a nagging twinge of guilt that if she had been more diligent in making sure that his gun was impeccably cleaned – he even had a _history_ of dirty guns, for crying out loud – she and Eric wouldn't be in the unenviable position of having to bury a lover. One she had fervently hoped they would _never_ have to deal with.

* * *

The glass vase that held a bouquet of daisies they had purchased the week before lay shattered on the end table, water seeping into the wood, creating an indelible stain, the flowers wilted and forgotten in the grief permeating the house. Drops of water hit the floor like the tears that both Calleigh and Eric had cried their fair share of over the past few days.

"I can't believe he's gone," Calleigh said, hiccupping. "I thought – I thought he'd be here forever."

"I know," Eric rubbed her back in a consoling gesture, feeling the heaves of her ragged breathing below his hand. "It feels like just _yesterday_ that he was here with us."

She pulled back and stared at him, her eyes puffy and red from near-constant crying. "It was, wasn't it?" she asked in a whisper, fearing the answer she knew would come.

"Cal, it's been nearly four days now," he said, pulling her back into his embrace. "You haven't showered, or eaten, or..."

Standing up abruptly, she looked down at him, determination flashing in her eyes. "_I_ am going to take a shower, and then _I_ am going to fix myself a meal. You're welcome to join me, or you can leave." She was barely holding it together, a steel rod of courage about to melt in an inferno of molten tears.

"In the shower or for the meal?" he asked, with a slight grin on his face. When she replied with a glare, he held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'll wait out here."

"Good." She grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom, head held high. Turning on the water valve to the hottest possible setting, she eased back into the furiously beating torrent of water, allowing the water to cascade over her form. Maybe it was the scalding temperature of it all; maybe it was the emotions packed into the past few days, the funeral, the coffin, having to hold back the tears as to not completely unravel in front of Horatio and the team; maybe it was the memories encapsulated in every breath she took in their apartment. Even the shower brought back memories, she thought with a wistful sigh and a choked sob, soapy hands roaming everywhere, too much, but _never enough_. A fresh torrent of tears surged through her, and she fell on her knees to the tile floor of the shower, throwing her hands in the air, her vision blurred by the tears pouring down her face.

Many minutes passed, and Eric grew concerned. It was too long for everything to still be okay in there. Easing himself off the couch, he walked over to the bathroom door and pressed his ear against it. Nothing, save for the still-running shower. Turning the doorknob, he opened it and found her sprawled across the shower floor, fast asleep, her wet hair plastered haphazardly to her sides. "Oh, Calleigh," he whispered, turning off the water.

How to pick up a _very _wet, _very_ naked girlfriend, who is trained in ballistics and could shoot him dead without blinking, if she was awake? The various methods of doing this ran through his head as he leaned over her. He reached behind him, groping until he found the towel she had picked out for herself lying perfectly folded on the toilet seat. Gently, he rubbed it over her body, taking care to be delicate, soaking up the worst of the water, before he picked her up and carried her, like a porcelain doll that could shatter at the slightest touch, into their bedroom. Laying her on the bed, the sheets soft and warm against her bare skin, he tucked a blanket over her. "Sweet dreams, Calleigh," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and walking out, allowing her to rest peacefully. God knew, both of them needed that, but his release would come when he knew she was at peace.

* * *

Many hours later, she awoke with a slight yawn and looked around, confused as to her surroundings. How had she gotten – the man spooned up next to her, arm protectively around her waist, was probably the one responsible, come to think of it. She eased out from under the covers, and gently placed his hand against the sheet. Rummaging around in her closet, she pulled out the first pair of clothes that she could find, and threw them on. More casual than her general appearance, for sure, but it was better than walking around stark naked. That was the old Calleigh, the one who had two men head over heels in love with her, and she head over heels in love with both of them. There had been no inhibitions. A pang ripped through her heart at the thought of those days being in the past.

Never would she love again, she promised herself. Her ability to love had been buried with a twenty-one gun salute in a cemetery, in a grave marked Timothy Speedle. With a soft, sad smile, she pressed a flutter of a kiss against Eric's cheek, and walked out of the bedroom. She could come back for her things later, when he was out. It was going to be painful, for sure, but she knew it was for the best.

* * *

The phone rang, piercing the silence of the bedroom. With a muffled grunt, Eric turned over and glared at the phone. If it wasn't Horatio or Alexx, he didn't want to answer. Even then, they'd know to come over. A part of him wished for some of Alexx's home cooking, and he made a mental note to ask her later if he and Calleigh could come over for dinner some night in the near future. Realization set in, as he looked over to the other side of the bed and saw that Calleigh wasn't there, nor was there any indentation to indicate she had been there in the recent past.

"Where did you go, Calleigh?" he asked out loud, not expecting an answer in reply. In the pit of his stomach, he knew that she wasn't coming back. He knew that unless she had quit her job and moved to the wilderness of Vermont to study the intricacies of maple syrup harvesting, they'd still be working together, in the awkward tango of two former lovers working together in the soap opera-esque environment that was the CSI lab. Now, more than ever, would be the time for discretion and secrecy. One wrong word, one misspoken phrase, one step out of line, and what relationship they could preserve would unravel, and she would be gone, forever this time. First Speed, then Calleigh, and he was left alone to fend for himself, floating recklessly in a hazy stream of mourning.

Everything that he had been working for, the past two years of his life, it was all gone in one fell swoop, and he was left to stare at the shards of what had been and what could have been.

"Oh, Speed," he murmured to himself, drifting off into a fitful sleep aided by a newfound fatigue. "Why did you have to die?"

* * *

_Bang_. A bullet ripped from Calleigh's gun, slicing the air, as it sped toward its intended target. Perfect aim, as always, straight for the heart. She took off her earmuffs and grinned, marching over and picking the bullet out of the target. Analyzing the striae, she shook her head. "No," she said out loud, to no one in particular. "This isn't the gun that was used."

She shook back her head, her hair flowing in the graceful movement. "Time to test-fire another gun!" she said brightly, loading the next gun in her lineup.

"Calleigh?" a male voice asked from behind her, not wanting to touch her shoulder while she was holding the gun. "Can we talk?"

Her gaze focused on the target, she fired off another round. As she repeated the procedure she had the first time, she noticed that she wasn't alone. "When did you get in here?" she asked, in a low, even voice. "I wasn't expecting visitors."

He waved his hands in a gesturing motion, gesturing at the gun and the firing range. "You were busy and I didn't want to be shot. Not like Speed."

Eyes narrowed into thin slits, she glared at him. "How _dare_ you bring him up," she said, barely masking the anger she felt bubbling inside. "I've moved on, Eric, why can't you do the same?"

"You're telling me that you don't _hurt_, Calleigh, thinking of the past two years? You don't _ache_ with the need for release? You can walk out that door, and leave behind not just myself, but Speed as well, and the love the three of us _shared_?" he said, his voice rising higher with each accusation. "You're not the girl I thought you were, Calleigh Duquesne."

"No, no, I'm not," she choked out, feeling her knees about to buckle under her weight. "I can't let my past dictate my actions."

"Why? Because then you'll be forced to _feel _something for the first time?"

"What I felt was safe, and protected –"

"And loved," he supplied.

"And loved, yes. But every time I look at you, I see Speed, and it _hurts_, Eric, it hurts so badly that I can't even look at you for fear I'll completely fall apart."

"Oh, Calleigh," he reached out one hand toward her, imagining the feel of her hair beneath his fingertips. Soft and luxurious, and oh-so-definitely Calleigh.

She shook her head violently. "No, Eric, you should probably go. It'd be for the best, for both of us."

"You know I'm still going to be here, right? I'm not quitting my job over this."

"I know, I never expected you to," she said softly, closing her eyes. "Please, just let me be alone now."

He looked back at her from the doorway, a faraway look in his eyes, almost as though he was looking _beyond_ her instead of at her. As she fluidly picked up another gun, her face masked in a sheer curtain of long blonde hair, Eric wistfully smiled and turned away. He'd always love her, that much, he knew for certain.

* * *

"Stetler thought that the toothing was because of Speed's death," Eric said, barely able to look Calleigh in the face. He felt his face burn bright red with embarrassment as he remembered their conversation the day before. "Abandonment issues and all that, since we were _so_ tight."

"_Was _it because of his death?" She looked concerned, and reached out an arm to him.

He shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. "I guess you could say that it didn't _help_."

"Eric, it's me. Calleigh. You can tell me _anything_. If you need to talk…"

"You found it in you to move on _so_ fast after his death, if you don't remember. And maybe now _I'm_ trying to move on as well. It's not an ideal situation, but it's what _works _for _me_."

"I can't fault you for that," she murmured. "I just wish you would have come to me first."

"No offense, Cal, but we would have reopened all those old wounds and poured liberal amounts of salt in them."

She nodded, feeling a little light-headed. Leaning against the wall, she felt a sense of relief, mingled with sadness, course through her. She had been the one to push him away initially, and now she felt strong enough to stand on her own two feet. If only Eric was able to stand on his as well. And she knew that even if he pushed her away like she had to him, she'd still be there if he ever wanted to talk.

-_to be continued_-


	6. Six

The sun rose, and the sun set. The moon waned, and the moon waxed. The calendar pages flipped and turned, before being discarded in the trash can for a new year's calendar to take their place on the wall next to the phone. The meteorologists on WFOR reported wildfires in Los Angeles, and blizzards in the Midwest. Through it all, the residents of Miami still relied on Eric, Calleigh and the rest of the team to investigate their crime scenes, and make them feel safer that the people who would do such things would be off the streets…

* * *

"_Man down_."

Calleigh glanced over at the police radio sitting haphazardly nearby, numbness spreading through her blood like ice. "No," she muttered to herself. "No, this can't…" It was all too familiar. The call on the radio for man down, it bore too much of a resemblance to just two and a half years before. It was too much to handle.

Walking over to Ryan, she tapped him on the shoulder. "You hear that?" she asked quietly, her eyes scanning the floor.

"Yeah," he said, "Let's go to the hospital. That's where we're needed now, not on the case."

She nodded, grasping the tiny cross pendant around her neck and silently praying. Praying for things to be better than what they seemed to be right now, praying for peace and serenity in a hail of gunfire. "Please be okay, Eric," she murmured under her breath. "I can't lose you now."

* * *

She pressed the dainty crucifix into the palm of his hand, the faint body heat from her wearing it burning into his hand. They both shared the same faith, and she knew that if there really was a God as she had been taught growing up, that He would protect Eric. He didn't look too good, but she figured that with him being near death and all, as well as losing a lot of blood, would have _something_ to do with that.

Later that day, after he was cleared for more visitors and was drifting between being awake and being asleep, she came back in, ready to see, once and for all, how much her world had been changed that day. _Their_ world, she mentally corrected herself. There was _no_ way, not even if God himself stepped in her way, that after coming _so_ close to losing him, she was _ever_ letting him go again.

The prognosis wasn't too great, she later found out, for a bullet to the head. The bullet fragments were close to his temporal lobe, too close. If they shifted too much, it would be fatal. She had inwardly cringed when she heard that, she didn't want to think of him going through that. He was also suffering from amnesia.

When she had heard from his own mouth that he was requesting Marisol, his dead sister, she froze. If he couldn't remember that, what else couldn't he remember? A part of her secretly wished that he would forget the words they had exchanged shortly after Speed's death. It was probably too much for her to hope for though. There was only so far she could push her luck, and be it as it may, then he'd think they were still together, maybe even that Speed was still alive, and that was a burden she _didn't_ want to shoulder.

He did remember that Speed was dead, but with the looks he'd give her, the deep passion burning in his eyes, she felt as though he didn't remember they had broken up. The familiar warm, tingly feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, the one she'd get when he'd look at her as though she was the only person in the room. She had caught him occasionally over the past couple of years giving her the look, and she would demurely smile and turn away.

Now they had a second chance to make things right.

* * *

As his memories began flickering back, she cautiously broached the subject one day. They had been discussing the current case at hand, and then, it felt like the old days again. "Hey, Eric," she said, leaning against the table, her eyes twinkling. "Want to go to dinner tonight?"

"Why?" he asked, not looking up from the evidence he was examining. "I mean, not that it wouldn't be nice."

"I thought I'd just take you out. You know, as friends, my treat," she said, smiling. "You've been working so hard since the shooting, Eric, you deserve a nice dinner."

"Okay." He smiled back at her. It would be nice, just the two of them talking and having a good time. Nothing more, right?

"I'll pick you up at seven?" she said, walking out of the room. "And dress nice."

"Seven sounds good."

As he stood alone in the lab, a smile spread over his face. Dinner with Calleigh. It would be nothing short of amazing, if he remembered all their old dinner dates correctly. She had a way of charming people with that smile and accent, and he wasn't immune to her charm. Not by a long shot.

* * *

Promptly at seven, she knocked on his door. "You ready to go?" she asked as he pulled the door open, shirtless and with a red toothbrush still in his mouth. "I'll take that as a 'no.'" She giggled and rested her hand on the doorframe.

"I'll be ready in a few," he said, taking the toothbrush out long enough to answer. "Feel free to make yourself at home."

She made her way in and sat down on his couch, idly fingering a loose thread dangling off one side. When they had been a triad, they hadn't spent a lot of time at his place. For some reason, both Eric and Speed had preferred her place. Going over to one of their places was different, and exciting. She fondly recalled one time at Speed's…but that was the past, and this was the present. Speed was dead, and had been for over two years; longer than they had been together. She sucked back the urge to cry, and cast her thoughts to the man currently getting dressed in the other room.

He wasn't the same Eric he had been. That much was true and accurate and painted across every action he made. He was more cautious, more deliberate, moved slower. But it was still unmistakably him, the smile was the same, the smell of his cologne the same. She'd have to reconcile the two Erics in her head, but she was determined, and she wasn't ready to back down.

He came out from the bedroom, and she smiled. "Ready to go now?" she asked, and he nodded slightly. Taking his hand in her own, she led him out the door and into her car. "I hear there's a really great Chinese place in Miami Beach…"

* * *

A satisfying dinner of sweet and sour chicken, Peking duck and won tons later, they sat at their table, sipping their drinks and chatting about whatever crossed their minds. "So, Eric," Calleigh said, leaning forward slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What do you say we head out and go back to my place?"

"What for?" he asked, leaning forward as well, meeting her gaze from a close distance. Under the table, he gently ran his foot along her leg.

"Thought we could continue this conversation in private," she said, looking into his eyes. So dark, so expressive. Some things would never change, thank goodness. She cleared her throat. "Sorry about that."

"Calleigh?" His voice was low, almost gravelly in tone. It was a tone she hadn't heard him use since…since before Speed died.

"Yes?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, her eyes hitching downward.

He leaned closer to her, the palms of his hands moving to her cheeks, pulling her closer. "Help me remember," he whispered in reply, closing the distance that remained between them with a searing, passionate kiss. Breaking minutes later when breathing became a necessity, they panted slightly, glancing at each other.

"_Definitely_ should take this to a more private place," she said, placing her hand over his. "Don't want to give the rest of the restaurant a show."

"Cal, I _highly_ doubt they're looking at us," he replied, refusing to break their gaze. "But I agree." As they stumbled out of the restaurant, grasping onto each other as though they were the only ones keeping each other afloat, not an eye in the restaurant darted their way, distracted by their own lives.

* * *

Calleigh fumbled with her keys, trying to jiggle the right key into the lock. "Damn it," she muttered. "Eric, _stop_ breathing down my neck."

He mock-pouted. "And I thought you _liked _that sort of thing," he whispered, his warm breath dangerously close to her skin, his lips teasing her ear, tantalizing every part of her.

"I do," she replied, managing to find the right key, and twisting it in the lock. "But patience is a virtue."

As they got inside, they blindly fumbled down the hallway to her bedroom, engrossed in feeling each other, hands roaming everywhere, shirts leading a bread crumb trail from the front door to her bedroom. They were reacquainting themselves with each other, and it was the same as it had always been. The past two years had been rough on both of them, both physically and emotionally, but the years had not changed the feel of Eric's biceps under Calleigh's fluid strokes, nor had they changed the swell of Calleigh's breasts as Eric's idle fingers flicked over her hardened nipples.

She fell back against her sheets, with him following seconds later, his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling them close together, and the friction of their bodies rubbing against each other causing Eric to let out a low groan. As their bodies lay intertwined, he realized that even over two years later, she was still the one he wanted.

* * *

They eased into a comfortable routine, much like the one that had served them so well when Speed was still alive. Old habits died hard, as it turned out. Eric marveled at how Calleigh remembered every place he liked to be touched, how the swirling of her tongue in the shell of his ear drove him wild, and Calleigh…Calleigh was just glad that she hadn't lost everything yet. And there was no way in this world that once she had Eric back in her arms that she was ever letting him go again.

-_to be continued_-

* * *

**Author's Note**: _One more chapter after this one._


	7. Seven

"Calleigh, I saw him," Eric whispered, holding her close in the privacy of the lab. "_I saw him_." It felt so real. Not like a ghost, or a hallucination, but like he was really there, talking to him, helping him with that crime scene.

"Oh Eric," she murmured, ghosting her fingers over his cheek. "I wish you had. You know that."

"I _did_," he insisted in vain, pulling her closer to him. "He looked good."

"Of course he did." She wasn't sure if her proclamation was a comfort or a curse. It could go either way, she supposed. But there was no way that Speed could look anything _but_ good. "If it was real, though, Eric, why isn't he here with us?"

He didn't have an answer to that. "I…I don't know," he said dejectedly, his shoulders slumping forward. "But it was real, Calleigh, you _have_ to believe me."

She smiled her famous Calleigh smile and patted his shirt. "I believe you," she said, pecking his cheek and straightening his shirt. "I just wish that it was _real_," she mentally completed the sentence.

* * *

There was activity on his credit card. There shouldn't _be_ activity on his credit card. They exchanged glances as they found out. "Calleigh?" Eric asked, feeling sick to his stomach. "Could it be?" Neither of them had to finish the question, they both knew the answer.

And as they tracked the activity on the card, and discovered it was currently being used at a bar, Calleigh prepared herself mentally for what could happen when they found out who was on the other end. It could be a bank mistake, a very convoluted mistake at that. Or it could be identity theft. Who better to steal an identity from than a long-deceased valued member of the community? Or…she didn't dare to think about the third option. It was too painful to think about.

She made her way gracefully through the bar, carefully investigating the face of every patron, looking for who could be the perpetrator.

And then she saw a familiar person, hunched over the bar, nursing an amber-colored drink. She made her way over, and took the stool next to him. "Hi," she said brightly.

The person looked up from his drink and looked over at her. "Calleigh?" he whispered, not daring to believe it.

Hearing the person's voice, her heart plummeted into her stomach. "Oh…oh God," she said, feeling faint. "Is it?"

"It's me, Calleigh," Speed said quietly, his eyes tired, a thin coat of facial hair coating his chin. "I _never_ thought I'd see you again."

She grasped onto the bar, feeling her sweat drip onto the wood. Sure, she had thought about what would happen if he was still alive, but she thought it was something that would be reserved for the nighttime hours. And this was, she glanced out the window to see the sun shining in, most _definitely_ not nighttime. Taking a fold of skin between her index finger and thumb, she pinched herself. "Owwww," she muttered under her breath.

"You're not dreaming," he said, downing the remainder of the glass and turning to face her. "So you don't have to pinch yourself."

"You can't blame me for thinking this is a dream," she said.

"I guess not."

"Calleigh? Did you find out anything?" Eric ambled over.

"Eric," Speed said, glancing over at him.

Eric's eyes widened as he looked at Calleigh. "Is it…?"

"Yes, it is," she murmured, shuffling her feet. "I…I think we should move this conversation somewhere else."

"That would…be a good idea," Speed said, getting up from his barstool. "We have a lot of things to talk about."

* * *

"So," Calleigh said a short time later, pouring each of them a glass of iced tea. "You expect to waltz right back into our lives, three years later, and expect everything to be just as you left it?"

"That's not what I meant _at all_, Calleigh," Speed said, sipping the iced tea. "I just…I thought you both would take me coming back better."

"Speed," Eric said, watching the ice cube drift lazily through the liquid. "You don't know how much she cried when we thought…"

"_I_ cried?" she said, her eyebrows flying upward in shock. "I seem to recall that _both_ of us cried our share of tears, Eric Delko."

"Okay, so, we did," he amended. "But we took it hard, Speed. _Very_ hard."

"Aren't you two a couple now, though?" He had noticed how they looked at each other. There was _no way _they weren't together.

Calleigh let out a sigh and looked over to Eric for guidance. "Yes. That didn't come about until about six months ago though."

"You two had been broken up?" He frowned slightly. A part of him had entertained the notion that the two of them had remained together, but grief made people do crazy things. Silently, he cursed that he had ever agreed to take the mission, with all of the risks it entailed. If he hadn't, then everything would have been easier for all of them.

"In the direct aftermath of your death, yes," Calleigh said. "And then we began making up for lost time when we realized how little of it we actually had." She reached over for Eric's hand and gently squeezed it.

For a few moments, none of them spoke. Speed glanced between the two of them. A part of him _had_ hoped that they'd take him back easily. But nothing in their lives was ever easy. He had never really contemplated what changes the intervening years would bring to them. When the opportunity to come back had presented itself, he ran with it. Now, a part of him wished that he had decided to stay put.

"If you'd be happier without me, I'll just leave," Speed said, breaking the silence. "No need to hang around where I'm not welcome."

Calleigh looked over at him, a fire dancing in her eyes. "Don't you _dare_ walk out that door, Timothy Speedle."

"Why not?"

"Because I still love you, man," Eric said. "And I've _never_ stopped loving you, or Calleigh. Not for a moment."

Speed cast a glance at Calleigh, the words remaining unspoken. The words didn't have to be spoken. They both knew what was being asked with his expression.

"You know I've never stopped loving you, Speed," Calleigh said, cracking a smile. "We were hurt."

"I understand that," he said, scuffing his heel against the chair leg. "And I wish I could…"

"Stop right there," Eric said. "We can't keep living in the past."

Calleigh nodded. "That's what Eric and I learned."

"You two are so happy together. I can tell it just by looking at you. Why would you need to add me back into the equation?"

"Because we still _love_ you, if you missed the memo before. It's going to take time to rebuild what we had," Calleigh said, reaching out a hand to Speed. "But I'm willing to try, for what we did have."

"As am I," Eric replied, placing his hand next to hers. "Only if you're willing to try as well."

Speed looked between Calleigh and Eric; their faces so inviting and warm… it was like he was living in a dream. It was what he had been missing all this time, all the nights alone. Three long years of waiting for the moment he was sure would never come. He reached out his hand, resting gently on their palms, feeling the contours of their individual hands beneath his fingertips. "Of course," he said.

Calleigh pulled him into a firm embrace, with Eric wrapping his arms around both. "It's_ so_ good to have you back," she whispered.

"We have a lot to catch up on," Eric said, a glint sparkling in his eyes.

"So why don't we start now?" Speed asked, pressing his lips to Eric's. "No better time than the present, after all. We can't keep living in the past." He echoed Eric's words from earlier.

"Using my own words against me now, are we?" Eric said, laughing idly, pulling Speed close to him. "Not that I'm protesting…"

* * *

As the moon hung high in the sky later that night, silvery stars pricking through to the earth below, Speed lay wedged between Calleigh and Eric, a thin blanket their only cover. Faint snores emanated from a sleeping Eric, and Speed threaded his fingers idly through Calleigh's hair. "You startled me," she whispered, turning over to face him.

"I didn't realize you were still awake," he said, a sheepish grin crossing his face. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she said, running one hand over his face. "Today has been…well, not what I expected."

"I didn't expect it to happen this way either, to be fair."

"How did you expect it to happen?"

"If I was going the cliché way, it would have been showing up on your doorstep in the pouring rain with a bouquet of a dozen red roses and a box of chocolate."

"I meant the Timothy Speedle way, not a chick flick."

"I don't know. I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"How long have you been back in Miami?" she asked, asking the question that she had been secretly wondering ever since that afternoon.

He counted backward in his head. "I landed a week ago."

"Where were you before this?"

"Somewhere really far away from Miami, it was the total opposite of warm and sunny. I ended up missing it here, believe it or not."

"Missing Miami, or missing Eric and I?"

"Both, actually. More you two though, I could have lived with the snow and changing seasons if I had certain people with me."

She grinned. "We missed you too. Things have been rough here."

"I know," he whispered. "Well, I don't know the details, but I know that it couldn't have been easy here."

"Never leave us again?" It was more of a plea than anything. She didn't want to go through more emotional turmoil, not after the tantalizing promise of something more stable.

"Never, Calleigh. That's a promise." He gently kissed her. "Now, let's get some sleep."

"Okay," she said, turning over. "Love ya," she murmured as she drifted off.

"Love you too," he whispered, settling his head on the pillow. It was a long time coming, but he was home again, right where he belonged.

-_fini_-

* * *

**Author's Note**: _The possibility of me continuing this into a series is not out of the question, just unlikely at this point in time. For now, it's finished as is._

_Thanks everyone for reading!_


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